


Strange Love

by hurricxneamelia



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, Slow Burn, Sylas is a Slutty BBQ Dad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:47:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22111318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hurricxneamelia/pseuds/hurricxneamelia
Summary: She doesn’t remember the details of the night exactly. Well, she remembers the woman’s face, meeting her in the bar near the hospital, and the proceeding admittedly good sex, but she doesn’t remember a name. She thinks perhaps the woman was a professor? It doesn’t matter. She’ll never see her again. That’s not Anna Ripley’s style.
Relationships: Delilah Briarwood/Anna Ripley, Fjord/Caleb Widogast, Jester Lavorre/Beauregard Lionett, Keyleth/Vex'ahlia (Critical Role)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 21





	1. The Morning After

Anna forces her eyes open to the sun beating through a window. The sun? Her shift starts at five in the morning today. It still should be dark. She glances around the room; it is much too decorated to be her own room. 

The walls are painted a pristine white and the furniture is dark mahogany wood. Atop the dresser are a few picture frames and on top of another chest of drawers sits a jewelry tree of sorts where glistening chains of gold and silver hang. Any bit of ornamental decoration around is a deep crimson matching the sheets which Anna lays tangled in. It stinks of wealth.

She rolls over in a sleep ridden panic to see the other side of the bed empty. That wouldn’t have been a total surprise had she not been in someone else’s bed. She pulls herself up in the bed as the sheets fall down to uncover her bare chest. Yep, she definetly had sex with someone before a twelve hour shift. As she sits up the back of her head throbs. So, she slept with someone drunk before a twelve hour shift. Wonderful, Anna, she chides herself. 

It is now she looks at her phone lying on the bedside table and when she snatches it to check the time, she wilts even more. She’s over an hour late to a shift. “Fuck,” she mumbles to herself as she gets out of bed and begins to search for her clothes from the previous night. She cringes thinking that she’ll have to wear the same clothes which she left work in back into work the next day. She’s done the walk of shame before, but never to work. 

Anna quickly obtains her black pants, the semi-sheer black button up shirt and the red blazer she wore out and shrugs them on. The woman pauses to look in the mirror above the dresser. Her black hair is frizzier than usual, and still flowing down her back. There’s no visible marks on her neck thankfully. 

With a grimace she makes a mental note to brush her hair out and braid it at some point before she makes it to work. A quick search on the map app on her phone tells her work is only a fifteen minute walk. If she jogs she can make it in ten or so, but that doesn’t make up for dealing with whatever fallout she’ll most likely encounter from the woman she spent the night with. 

As she makes her way through the house, no sounds emit from the kitchen or living room. Perhaps she’ll get off lucky and her one night stand has left the house. It seems fortune favours her; Anna is able to slip out of the house and be on the way to work with no interaction with whatever woman she slept with. 

She doesn’t remember the details of the night exactly. Well, she remembers the woman’s face, meeting her in the bar near the hospital, and the proceeding admittedly good sex, but she doesn’t remember a name. She thinks perhaps the woman was a professor? It doesn’t matter. She’ll never see her again. That’s not Anna Ripley’s style. 

Fourteen Hours Earlier 

“De Rolo, finish the paperwork for the Caspian family. I already signed the death certificates,” Anna says, nodding toward her white-haired resident. They’ve just discarded the surgical gowns left the bellows of the hospital after the final failure of an emergency surgery on the family in the plane accident. 

He nods, staring at his feet. “Which one of us is talking to the grandmother and the aunt that came in for them?” 

“I will,” she says sharply. “Go, and once you finish the paperwork dealing with their deaths make sure the rest of our cases are up to date in the system. It also might be a wise idea for you to round on the man we operated on yesterday. From the last update I’ve received, he’s in and out of consciousness.” Anna watches Percival trudge off. He’s never quite chipper to see her, but he’s dragging more now. She supposes perhaps this was his first case where they lost a child. 

With a sigh, Percy begins to trudge off toward the ER staff lounge to access the computers there. As he enters the door and flops down on one of the couches with a groan, another figure moves in his peripheral. “Tough day?” asks the familiar voice of Pike Trickfoot, his good friend and a general surgery resident at the hospital. 

“Yeah,” Percy sighs. “I can deal with losing someone on the table, but God. The plane crash that we operated on, there were two children. Young kids, you know? And they were pretty much hopeless when we put them on the table, I knew that much, but seeing them die wasn’t anymore fun than you can imagine it to be. Plus, Ripley was out for blood more so than usual. She’s always critical, but Gods, this was a whole new level.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, Percy, especially about the kids. It’s a shame. I was in on the operation with one of the parents. It wasn’t… yeah, no it wasn’t good. But, I am sorry Ripley was worse than usual today, especially in such a high emotion situation,” Pike frowns as she flops down beside Percy.

“Yeah, it fucking sucks. It does fuel my goal to continually excel just to spite her though,” Percy shrugs with a short laugh carrying notes of bitterness.

“I mean, that is a goal I suppose,” Pike shrugs a breath of laughter escaping her own mouth following Percy’s. 

“Speaking of which, I have to finish paperwork for those cases and round on her patient. The one I barely got to do anything in because she found out I was behind on charting,” he shakes his head indignantly as he pushes himself up from the couch. 

Anna isn’t heartless. She’s just been a physician long enough to detach herself from these situations. People die, and people will die on her table. It’s part of life and if someone is meant to die on her table then they will. Still, she doesn’t like losing patients. There’s two reasons for this. One is the obvious reason she usually ignores: the sheer fact that it sucks to lose someone and then have to inform their family. The second is she fears it will reflect on her skills as a surgeon or as a teacher if Percival is taking the lead on the surgery. She can’t lose her reputation or have it damaged any. 

She’s spent years building her career and doing medical research and in her book anytime she loses a patient it is a detriment to her skills. Nevertheless, it happens. So, she forces a neutral expression on her face and makes her way to the family to whom she has to deliver this news. 

She says what she was trained to say in medical school and does her best to not seem apathetic. The remaining family sobs upon the news and Anna excuses herself. She wonders how they weren’t preparing themselves. It was obvious to anyone that only a miracle would carry those children through a surgery and it would take another miracle for them to ever wake up.

Regardless, Anna isn’t a fan of the scene before her. It pulls on her long ignored heartstrings. She can’t imagine what would be like to lose a child or family member. She doesn’t remember losing any of her extended family; she was too young, and her parents haven’t spoken to her in years. She’s not sure she’ll be faced with any sort of quandary like this anytime soon. 

She still breathes a sigh of relief when she escapes the sounds of the mourning family. A quick check of her watch confirms she’ll be off of her shift (on time) in twenty minutes. Every bone in Anna Ripley’s body just wants to get a drink and crash in her bed after the day she’s had, which if she leaves on time, she should miss the inflow of evening traffic to bars. She should be leaving on time since Percival is finishing her last rounding. 

After she meets the attending coming in for the night shift and gives them the proper updates on patients and new incomes, she heads back toward the lounge. She sifts through her bag and pulls out a pair of black pants, a red blazer, and a black shirt. Anna slips into one of the washrooms in the lounge and changes out of her scrubs back into her own clothing. She takes stock of herself in the mirror.

Her under eyes are rimmed with a purplish tint and the few wrinkles she has are a bit more prominent than they were that morning. Standing to a full height and squaring her shoulders (despite the exhaustion that rings through her bones) she adjusts the shirt until she’s happy with the way it’s tucked in and with how much skin she’s showing with respect to the buttons that are undone on her blouse. She then pulls her hair down from the tight french braid so it falls wavy and smooth down her back. There, she looks much less ragged now. 

When she slips out of the washroom Percival has returned from rounding. “Any change?” She asks with a raised brow.

“On Mr. Wright?” 

“Isn’t he the patient on whom I asked you to check in?” Anna says flatly.

Percy has to grit his teeth and bite back a snarky reply. Ripley looks like she’s about to leave and he’s counting down the seconds. “He’s stable. There’s not been a huge change. He was more lucid, but I would recommend another neuro consult to double check for brain damage or injury because he is still so in and out of consciousness and confused.” 

She regards him for a second, “Very well. Put in an order for a neuro consult with your concerns,” she finishes her statement with nod before turning to head out of the lounge. “I’ll see you tomorrow, and we can go over the rest of our patients.” 

Before Percival has a chance to respond, Anna slips out of the lounge and heads toward the ER exit. The closest bar is a few blocks down from the hospital, and considering how long of a day she’s had she doesn’t want to bother going on the tube to another bar or walking further. 

The bar isn’t crowded when Anna slips in. She glances at her watch: 5:40. Littered across the bar looks to be a few single young people, possibly university students, and in a few of the booths some middle aged people sit with appetisers or drinks in front of them. She makes her way toward the bar and takes a seat on one of the stools, allowing her posture to slouch ever so slightly.

As the bartender comes over, she speaks up, “I’ll have a Vodka soda.” 

The man nods, “Coming right up.” The barkeep that night is one she’s seen around for years and one whose name she’s actually bothered to learn. Lionel. She doesn’t know a lot about him, and doesn’t exactly care to learn, but she’s picked up bits and pieces of information. He’s in a Vet tech program, he works another job part time under some eccentric man named Tarryon. Otherwise she knows only his name and doesn’t care to know more. 

Soon enough, he pushes her drink her way. The first swig is always the strongest, but always the best. The burn of alcohol in the back of her throat is soothing. The first drink goes quickly, and Anna promises herself one more then she’ll go home. She goes through the second one pretty quickly. Her mind is only just starting to get fuzzier. 

She glances around the bar. A woman of average height with a thin frame and a delicate face catches her eye. She has reddish black hair and dark green eyes. She’s wearing a black long sleeved, lace dress that hugs her figure until it hits her waist. From there it drops down to just above her knees. She’s probably in her mid thirties if Anna has to guess, and quite honestly, she’s gorgeous. She’s wearing makeup, but her eye makeup is slightly worn looking. She is wearing a deep red lipstick with an almost purple undertone that looks freshly applied. 

Anna glances back down at her own drink before the woman can realise she’s been staring. The part of her that wanted to go home and sleep is suddenly quieter. So, she orders a third drink. 

It is sometime in the third drink which she feels a tap on her shoulder. It is the woman who walked in, “You saving this seat for anyone?” she asks quirking an immaculately neat brow. 

Up close, Anna can appreciate her features for all that they are. She’s wearing a smartwatch on one wrist and a silver chain around her neck with some sort of pendant shaped into iconography Anna doesn’t know. She reeks of wealth, but even so Anna can’t argue with just how well that surely expensive lace dress sits across her chest and waist.  
“No, please, take it,” she shrugs. Did she mean for her voice to take on the tone it did? Regardless the woman sits down and Lionel comes over to take her drink order. 

“Sangria,” she orders. She is rich, only rich women drink Sangria when they go to a bar. The woman moves her purse to the seat beside her which is also empty. She does notice on her keys a small ‘Tal’Dorei University’ keychain, so she either is an alumni or professor, interesting. 

“So, are you going to keep watching me from the corner of your eyes or introduce yourself?” the woman lazes as she takes a sip of her wine. 

“Oh, upfront, are we?” Anna snorts. “Well then. I’m Anna Ripley.” She introduces finally meeting the woman’s piercing green eyes. 

“Well, Anna Ripley, it’s lovely to meet you. I’m Delilah Briarwood.”


	2. Family Court

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Good. I’ll see you later then if I have to swing by to pick Lily up. Otherwise, I have work to do before class.” And without a salutation Delilah ends the call. Sylas has already managed to get on her last nerve and it’s only the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Preemptive knowledge: Delilah has a daughter because it's modern and we can have her express her maternal instincts healthily

Delilah can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief when she’s finally in the comfort of her office. Vivid memories of the night before and the past hour flash behind her eyelids of the petite woman lying in her bed. Anna was her name. She remembers all too well. After all, she only had wine to drink. She cringes at the thought of her daughter asking what her hickeys are when she sees her tonight. She can’t blame it on intoxication. This was her (mostly sober) choice.

If Sylas sees them, she’ll also have to explain it to him. Not that she owes him anything. But he could in some way try to use this in the custody case against her. So, she settles on hoping the makeup to cover them is enough to fool both her six year old and soon to be ex-husband. 

She’s pulled out of her reverie by the sound of her phone ringing. Speak, or well think of the devil and he shall appear. Sylas’ contact name flashes across the screen. “Hello?” She answers with a marked effort to keep her voice neutral. 

“Delilah,” Comes the tires sound of Sylas Briarwood’s voice through the phone, “Lily wants to talk to you on the way to school. For some reason she can’t wait to see you tonight. She’s pestered me about it since last night,” he continues. His tone is far too exasperated for Delilah’s liking, but, looking at her watch, it’s far too early to start an argument. 

Instead, she focuses on her daughter. “Where is she? I’d be happy to talk to her. I don’t have any appointments that I know of and I don’t have a class for another two hours.”

“She’s getting ready for school. Hang on.” On the other end of the line, a muffled, ‘Lily!’ comes from Sylas’ mouth and the distant sound of feet pounding on creaking stairs floats toward her ears. Then, Sylas again, “Momma’s on the phone.” And then a quiet sound of excitement as he hands the phone off. 

“Momma! Hi!”comes the excited sound of Delilah’s daughter, Lily on the phone. 

“Hey Lily!” Delilah greets making her voice a bit more energetic than she felt. “What’s up?”

“I just wanted to talk to you, because I have dance today, and you know my friend Otho?”

“Yes?”  
“And how he said he wanted to start taking dance too? Because he thinks it looks cool?”

“I remember.”  
“Well, his dads said he can! So, today he’s going to be in at least one class with me and I’m really excited. Oh, and also, in our class we started doing spelling competitions and I’ve been winning,” the little girl finishes excitedly. 

Delilah finds that she’s smiling as Lily speaks, “That’s really lovely about Otho. I hope you two have a great time in classes tonight. You’ll have to tell me all about it tonight, sweetie. And I’m so proud of you and your spelling, I always knew you inherited my brains,” she laughs.

On the receiving end she hears a giggle in response, “Yeah, I guess so. What time are you picking me up tonight?”

“Whenever you get out of class or from your Daddy’s house at 7:00 when I definitely get out of work. Whichever happens first.”

Before Lily can answer her, Sylas’ impatient tones come across the line telling her to hurry up or they’ll be late for school. Then, her daughter speaks again, “Oh, Daddy says I need to go or I’ll be late. I love you, Momma and I’ll see you tonight.” 

“I love you too, sweetheart. Have a good day at school.” 

“I will!” 

Then there’s some shuffling before Sylas has the phone again, “Thank you for talking to her.” 

“It’s no problem. She is my daughter after all,” Delilah replies, her voice taking on a hint of ice as she speaks.

“Our daughter-” he starts to insist as Delilah interrupts him.

“Was there anything else you needed?”

“No.” His voice is cold now too, matching her own tone.

“Good. I’ll see you later then if I have to swing by to pick Lily up. Otherwise, I have work to do before class.” And without a salutation Delilah ends the call. Sylas has already managed to get on her last nerve and it’s only the morning.

Just as she’s starting to settle in and go over her lecture plans, there’s a knock on her office door. “Great,” she mumbles to herself putting her laptop aside. “Come in.” 

Just as she says so, the door opens and in walks, no bounces, Jester Lavorre. Her advisee. Jester’s a pre-med biochem major in her junior year and by now Delilah knows how to handle Jester and her antics, whether it be in class or in meetings or in general conversation. The girl is as bright as a star, and Delilah would never admit it but one of the best students she’s ever had academically. “Morning, Dr. Briarwood!” She greets with a smile, as she takes a seat in one of the chairs before Delilah’s desk.

“Good Morning, Jester,” Delilah nods in response. “How can I help you?” It’s best to skip pleasantries and just get straight to the point with Jester or they’ll be here for much longer than necessary. 

“Well, I was thinking about this, and my application for med school would look really good with research on it, and I know we talked about this last semester, but now that I’ve taken your class on chemical synthesis in genetics would you reconsider taking me on in your research lab?” 

Delilah breathes out an imperceptible sigh. She should have seen this coming. Jester was, and apparently still is desperate to work in her lab. And now that she’s taken Delilah’s unofficial prerequisite, and had high marks, it is very difficult for Delilah to logically deny Jester. “I’ll take it under consideration. Your marks were good last semester and when we talked about your schedule this semester you didn’t want any night classes did you?” she asks arching a brow. 

Jester shakes her head no, that incessant smile on her face growing, “No. I specifically wanted my nights off so I took that gross calculus class in the morning,” she replies her smile briefly contorting at the thought of her eight in the morning class. 

Delilah slowly nods, “Very well. I’ll get back to you as soon as I’ve come to a decision. Did you need anything else?” she asks leaning back in her desk chair ever so slightly.

“No. I just came to ask about that! Thank you so so much! And I guess I’ll see you later in class today? Since I’m in your metabolism class?” She says as she begins to stand up and gather herself once more. 

“You’re welcome, and yes I’ll see you at 10:30,” Delilah nods, watching Jester make her way out and thankfully close the door. 

As Jester leaves, she glances to the chairs in the front of the biochemistry department’s office where her girlfriend Beau sits looking bored as ever, scrolling through her phone. “Beau!” Jester exclaims. 

“Yeah Jessie?”

“She said she’d reconsider it! Which I know that doesn’t mean yes, but it isn’t a flat out ‘no.’ And Beau, her research is just so cool and I need to have lab experience because it’ll look so good on a resume for med school and I just really wanna work in her lab, and it might actually happen this time!” Jester word vomits before she can quite stop herself.

Beau glances up, a small teasing smile on her face, “You still think she’s hot don’t you? But seriously, that’s great, and I hope she lets you work with her if it’s something you really wanna do.”

A blush rises in Jester’s cheeks, “When are you all going to let that go? I said that once or twice and you even agree, and you have like, really good taste.”

Beau stands with a laugh, taking Jester’s hands, “We don’t let it go because she’s your advisor and you’ve taken almost every class she offers and now you want to work in her lab,” she teases squeezing the other girl’s hand. “Now come on, I’m starving and I have a nine class that I just don’t want to deal with and I want to get breakfast with my cute girlfriend before I have to.” 

After Jester’s departure, Delilah’s day begins to drag on and on. She enjoys work on most days because it’s always been in her blood to want to learn and improve and teach but today it drags on. She responds to a few emails from her attorney about the divorce and custody battle throughout the day and most of her classes are uneventful. 

Other than in her Organic Chemistry II, Nott ends up nearly lighting her whole lab on fire and Delilah thinks her brain might be hemorrhaging as she has to deal with the short girl once again. This isn’t exactly the first time there’s been incidents in the lab portion of this class with Nott, but it never gets any less tiresome. 

The highlight of her days, at least on the semi-productive days, is working in her research lab. It’s quiet for the most part and the students who work with her she has hand picked. Admittedly, her favourite is freshman Cassandra De Rolo. At this point, Cassandra is probably the only De Rolo who doesn’t hate her. Thankfully, when the ‘incident’ as Delilah likes to call it, went down, Cassandra was so little she doesn’t seem to remember it nor does it seem like she’s asked about any of it.

She’s also exceptionally bright. Normally, Delilah wouldn’t allow a freshman anywhere near her research, but a freshman in organic chemistry is an exception she can make, especially when said freshman is a De Rolo. 

“Doc B?” ( a name only Cassandra has successfully called Delilah. Others have tried only to be reprimanded).

“Yes?”

“What do you make of this? It’s a bit abnormal.” Cassandra points to a piece of data on the computer screen.

Delilah leans over to analyse it, at least on a surface level. “Make note of that. I don’t know off the top of my head, but once we finish this set of data I’ll-” she’s cut off by her phone vibrating in her pocket. Thankfully they’re just parsing through data so there’s no gloves or anything to remove before she can pull her phone out of her pocket and see who’s bothering her. 

Sylas’ contact flashes across the screen again. “I have to take this I’m afraid,” she excuses herself through gritted teeth into the hallway and slides the flashing answer button across. “What?” she snaps.

A thin sigh comes through the end of the line and Delilah has to bite her tongue from saying something. This is her time in her lab that her bastard of an ex-husband is interrupting. “I wouldn’t call if it weren’t important, you know. But, Lily’s hurt. She’s at the ER.”

Every ounce of spite and frustration evaporate from Delilah’s veins as Sylas speaks those words and it’s replaced by anxiety. “What happened? Is she okay?” 

“They think it’s nothing major. Could be a concussion and nasty cut. She was running down the stairs and tripped, which I thought was harmless save a few bruises until realised she hit her head on the edge of the bannister as she fell.” He still sounds so nonchalant and Delilah is almost moved to murder. 

“Fuck. I’m on my way.” With that, she hangs up, giving Sylas no chance to respond. She excuses herself from her lab as quickly as humanly possible and changes out of the clothes she always stores away for a lab and back into her long sleeved red dress. 

The ride to the ER is filled with silent anxiety. She can’t bring herself to listen to any music. She knows that Lily just fell down stairs and hit her head, but there are so many other factors to consider. The height from which she fell, the angle at which she hit, how hard she hit, and where. Delilah also has a bachelors in biology with a concentration in neuro. She’s well aware of how delicate a head injury can be. She feels bile rise in her throat as she drives and tries to reason with herself. It’s probably not a big deal, but she can’t help worrying for her little girl. 

She also can’t stop herself from being pissed at Sylas’ nonchalance. Delilah’s body moves mechanically as her mind whirls in every direction filled with irrational anxieties as she parks and speed walks into the emergency room. Upon scanning the room, Sylas and Lily aren’t in the waiting room. She’s seen a doctor. That’s good, but that also means she needs to let Sylas know she’s here so she can go back to wherever they are. 

With a sigh, Delilah pulls out her phone and shoots him a text letting him know. She doesn’t sit and only stands, tapping a heel, waiting. No response. Granted, several minutes later Sylas enters from one of the hallways in the ER and says something to the receptionist before he turns to scan the room. When their eyes meet, despite any other feelings they may feel, they’re both distinctly tired. 

“Delilah,” he greets with a nod, approaching. 

“Sylas,” she greets back. 

The ex-couple is silent as they traverse the hall. Sylas nearly stops abruptly before a room. “All we know so far is that the scans of her brain came back clear. She was so disoriented when we came in they did some for preemptive measures. She does have a very minor concussion Someone is coming to stitch her head up soon and a doctor will talk to us again soon.” He doesn’t give Delilah a chance to respond before he turns into the room where on the padded table lays an exhausted, upset looking Lily. 

Delilah can see a few tear streaks that have dried on her cheeks. The most glaring feature is the laceration spanning from her forehead and into her hairline ever so slightly. Lily’s tired eyes only light up with an ember when she sees Delilah, “Momma,” she mumbles. 

“I’m here, baby,” Delilah nods. She pulls a chair up closer to the table so she can hold one of Lily’s hands. “How do you feel?”

“My head hurts, a lot, and I know it was bleeding. Is everything inside my head okay? I know sometimes when people fall they get confused and something happens.” She says, almost speaking herself into a hysteria again as she voices her fears to her mother. 

Of course she’s talking about concussions. “I know it hurts. Soon they’ll be in to take care of that little cut and help your pain hopefully, and the doctors have said you might have a bit of a headache for a bit, but nothing's really wrong. It’ll be okay.” 

Lily only nods, but she doesn’t let go of Delilah’s hand. Soon enough a doctor is in to stitch the laceration and Delilah ends up half lying with Lily so she isn’t as scared. And Delilah hates seeing this. She hates seeing her daughter in any pain. 

By the time the doctor is done with the stitches and Lily’s calmed down, she’s fallen asleep. The doctor assured them that it would be okay since the concussion was so minor, but Delilah still worries. She glances over at Sylas, sitting in one of the chairs. “We need to talk,” she says quietly, a sense of begrudging and dread dropping like a rock in the pit of her stomach that the inevitable has come to fruition.

He nods, an audible sigh escaping his mouth. Delilah detaches herself from a sleeping Lily but leaves her sherpa lined coat to cover her while she’s taking a nap as she and Sylas slip into the hallway.

“What the hell happened?” she asks crossing her arms. 

“She fell, like I said.”

“I know, but why weren’t you there?” Delilah asks raising a brow petulantly. In her mind she blames Sylas. He was there with her when it happened.

“What could I have done to stop her falling?” His tone is defensive now.

“Warned her to be careful? Wasn’t she running?”

“She’s six. Do you think she’d listen?” Sylas’ posture has gone rigid and he narrows his eyes toward Delilah.

“Sylas! She’s six. She takes our word as God for the most part. She’s one of the most well behaved children I’ve ever met.” 

“Yours, maybe” Sylas snaps. “She’s resented me ever since we separated and started the divorce process. It’s like she knows what happened, and I know I didn’t tell her!” He huffs.

“Oh what are you implying then? I told her what her father did?” Delilah still can’t say it, and both of their voices are louder than normal now. A few nurses who pass in the halls stare.

“Someone had to it’s not like she’d get it without help!”

“She doesn’t have to know a situation to perceive emotions, and besides, it’s not my fault if she won’t listen to you Sylas.”

“She’s your precious little girl. Can’t you get her in check?” 

Delilah shakes her head, laughing out of exasperation, “For Gods’ sake. You are also a parent, and she’s six years old. She’s allowed to process this divorce however she wants to even if that means a bit of rebellion!” Delilah abruptly turns back into the room before her anger can get the better of her, and God she hopes Sylas will just take the hint. 

Down the hall, stands Anna Ripley. Karma let her escape that morning, but perhaps karma had another plan because the woman who’d been in a screaming match with the douchey looking man still standing in the hall was definitely the one she slept with, Delilah was her name. And apparently this was her ex husband and she had a six year old daughter.

Anna almost wants to go check on the daughter. It’s far from her job, but something in her wants to. Perhaps she wants to see Delilah, but that isn't her style. She doesn’t stay past a night. Instead of ruminating on that conjecture the surgeon straightens her back and walks briskly past the room and to the main room of the ER. 

“De Rolo? Are we caught up on our cases?”


	3. Reunions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Awkward hospital meetings and figures from the past show their faces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for this short of a chapter, it's been a Time, but maybe it should get more consistent from hereon out. Also disclaimer my depiction of hospitals comes solely from Grey's Anatomy (which I know is not accurate) and med student vlogs so please excuse any inaccuracies you notice.

“De Rolo? Are we caught up on our cases?” 

Ripley’s voice rings in Percy’s ear as she sits at the ER desk staring at the computer screen, “Oh, yes. Everything’s charted, and it’s been a slow night so nothing new, even in the realm of minor injuries that would require an immediate consult,” he shrugs, half expecting Ripley to tell him to double check his work.

She simply nods though, “Very well.” Anna takes a seat near Percy with a short sigh. In her peripheral, one of the pediatric doctors and surgeons, Allura Vysoren passes by. She’s probably treating the kid that Delilah and that greasy man have. The kid wasn’t in surgery, so it couldn’t have been too bad, but there’s something that’s just nagging at seeing that spectacle. She’s pretty sure it’s not the little girl, because she’s probably okay, but it couldn’t be Delilah either. Could it?

Maybe it is and she feels weird because they didn’t have the awkward one-night stand goodbye that morning. Anna could just rip the figurative bandaid off and acknowledge Delilah somehow now; however, she does speculate that would probably be dreadfully inconvenient to force, considering the circumstances, but the doctor is not a fan of this feeling. 

“Dr. Ripley?” Percy’s voice pulls her out of her reverie. 

“Yes?” she says, her voice perhaps a bit more forceful than it should have been.

Percy’s eyes widen in shock for a split second before his face returns to a neutral line, “I was just wondering who was taking over from you after your shift? Because I need to be getting our hand-off notes ready for them.” 

“Dr. Trickfoot,” Anna answers with a sigh. 

“Really? I thought he never did overnight shifts?”

“Normally he doesn’t, but this time he just got the short end of the stick and couldn’t get a change, or he needed a change of pace maybe,” Anna half snorts thinking of the old trauma surgeon who’s half retired at this point and not keen on coming in unless it’s for shorter day shifts with residents. Anna does have to give him credit for the work he does with newer residents and the medical students. She’d never have that much patience.

“Percival, give me a run down of the hand-off notes to make sure we aren’t missing anything.” Percy’s mouth open and then closes as if he were going to make a comment about Trickfoot, but instead he begins to prattle off conditions, updates, surgery schedules, and traumas throughout the day. The mundane is relaxing, and Anna can lose herself in making sure the resident doesn’t fuck something up. “Good,” she says when he stops speaking. “If you can do that in a couple hours then there won’t be any mistakes.” 

The brief look of morbid shock at Anna’s compliment is mildly amusing, but she lets it pass, turning back toward the computer in front of her. The phone sitting on the desk rings and when she answers, the voice of an operator informing her that a trauma from a street assault is coming in fills her ears. With another sigh, she puts the phone down, “De Rolo, page cardio. We have a trauma coming in from a street assault.  
Apparently it’s pretty bad. If I had to guess there’s a possibility of pneumothorax.” Unfortunately, Anna’s soon to be ending shift, is about to get a lot longer. 

Anna’s speculations are correct. The patient ends having a pneumothorax among stab wounds and blunt trauma to the head. The surgery itself goes as well as it can for a patient in this critical condition, but by the time Anna steps out of the operating room, she’s practically a zombie on her own two feet. God, she’s getting old. Or maybe it’s the fact that she did half of her shift hungover and she got very little sleep, and now she’s around a fourteen hour shift. Albeit, the night was slow, but the day was rather crazy. 

She’s shed her surgical cap and gown and found her way back toward the attending longue. It’s in the hall that she meets those same green eyes from last night. Shit. Delilah’s eyes widen as they find Anna’s. At least she’s as surprised as Anna was when she originally saw her. The doctor considers her options. She can’t run, and it’s obvious that Delilah recognises her. She’s suddenly stopped in her tracks, and Delilah is cautiously moving toward her. 

Gritting her teeth, Anna moves the rest of the way forward, “Hey.” 

Delilah smiles a small smile. “Hello… you didn’t mention that you were a doctor,” she comments.

“No, but it’s not like we really had time to talk about much,” Anna shrugs. 

Delilah shifts on her feet, “I suppose so.”

Silence fills the air for an indiscriminate amount of time, but it’s still too long of a time. Finally Anna speaks. “How’s your kid?”

“Oh, you know what happened?” Delilah raises a brow in shock. “You work with kids?”

“No, and no. I’m a trauma surgeon. I haven’t overseen any of her case, I just overheard you and your ex husband?” she pauses for clarification and gets none, “talking about her and neither of you were injured, so deductive reasoning.” 

“I see, and yes, ex husband. I don’t want to be associated with him.” For a moment, Delilah’s voice hardens. “But Lily is doing okay. We’re mostly waiting on discharge and clearance.”

“I understand,” Anna nods, “but that’s good that she wasn’t seriously hurt, that neither I and the pediatric surgeon had to see her,” she says with a hint of a chuckle. 

“Yes, it was,” the other woman nods, her voice devoid of humour. 

Anna gives one last nod before she takes a step out to step around Delilah, but the professor catches her arm, “Sorry about this morning, leaving without saying anything. It was rude of me to not say anything.” 

The other stops, “It’s fine. I was asleep, don’t worry about it.” 

“Good. I just wanted to make sure we were okay.” 

Why did it matter exactly? Anna wonders. “Yes we are. Don’t worry.” She offers a smile, “See you Delilah.” 

“See you.” 

As Anna walks away, Delilah watches with wonder. Admittedly, Anna was a one night stand, and there was nothing inherently wrong with that. But after seeing her again, even in such a circumstance, Delilah wonders if she should have actually asked her out. After all, she’s soon to be fully divorced, she could date someone. Then the logistics hit her. She doesn’t have Anna’s number or anything to contact her with. 

The professor makes her way back into the exam room where Sylas sits in a plastic chair, scrolling through his phone, and Lily lies curled up on the table. Once she reenters, Sylas stands, “Delilah. I need to head home. Have you got her?” 

Typical. He wants to leave, and it takes all of her will not to lecture him about being a better father, again, but she bites her tongue. “Yes. I’ve got her.” 

“Good, I’ll see you then.” He nods curtly and exits just as the doctor enters again. Vysoren. 

She gives Delilah a run down on precautions, warning signs in case anything gets worse, and finally lets her sign the discharge papers. With the pleasant smile of a pediatrician, she exits the room and Delilah makes her way over to Lily to shake her awake gently. 

“Momma?” Comes a groggy, tired voice. 

“We can go home now my darling,” Delilah says with a small smile.

“Okay. Carry me? I’m really tired,” Lily mumbles holding her arms out to Delilah. 

“Of course baby,” her mother nods, picking up the small girl in her arms. It takes her a moment until Lily seems comfortable and she’s in a position to grab her own belongings. On her way out, she doesn’t even notice the flash of white hair at the front desk: Percival De Rolo. Her old student and a member of the family with which she and Sylas used to be friends. Of course Cassandra is his sister, but Cassie’s different from the rest of the De Rolos. She doesn’t really remember what happened. 

Percy notices though, and after Delilah exits, his mouth drops open. The world is turning upside down. Anna Ripley complimented him, and now his scary Organic Chemistry and Biochemistry professor from undergrad has shown back up. He glances around for a minute to make sure he’s not needed before pulling out his phone to text the group chat with his friends: Vox Machina. 

[Percy: Holy shit. Doc B just walked out of the hospital. Never thought I’d see her again.

Vex: I speak for Keyleth and I when I second: Holy shit. She was the orgo professor whose classes almost made your GPA fall beyond repair.

Grog. Oh my god, that lady. I never had her but I saw her, intimidating.

Scanlan: If Grog says it's scary then it’s scary. 

Vax: Babe, did she notice you?

Percy: No, but I’m not sure how that would have gone down if she had.

Keyleth: Probably like a normal awkward meeting?

Vax: Oh so now you’ve stopped doing whatever with my sister long enough to text.

Vex: Oh my god. Vax.]

Percy looks up from his phone as Vex and Vax start to go at it, still reeling. If he’s not mistaken, that was Delilah Briarwood, someone he thought he’d never see again.


	4. Clashes Abound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raishan and Percy are at each others throats and Anna has had enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay in between updates, once again, and for the shortness of this chapter. Updates should be more frequent now that I've defended my thesis, Also once again, disclaimer, my medical knowledge is very limited and from Greys Anatomy and medical vlogs.

Anna Ripley sometimes forgets how annoying residents can be. Yes, she’s quite critical of Percival, and not exactly known for her kindness, but she’s never innately snapped any resident on her service out of malice. At least not until Percival and Raishan are both on her service together. 

Raishan is the senior resident and arguably has the cleaner technique and more orderly OR, but she also clearly antagonises Percy for no reason. Anna’s had the fortune in the past of avoiding having either of them scheduled together, but she didn’t know it was a fortune then. 

“You know, I would have assessed that much more quickly than you did, if you’d just let me in,” Raishan’s voice floats into Anna’s reverie. 

She glances over at the dark headed girl leaning back in her chair with a smug smirk on her face. Fleetingly, Anna wonders how she’s managed to get through this job with a dark green ombre on her hair.

Percy scoffs, “That was my patient. Besides, they weren’t coding. That one second that you could have possibly produced a prognosis faster didn’t matter.” A second matters sometimes, Anna thinks to herself. 

“Could you have handled a code?” Raishan lazily raises an eyebrow. Anna almost visibly cringes at how hard Raishan is goading the younger resident on. Percival is capable, and he knows it, but this conversation isn’t convincing anyone. 

“You know what? I refuse to dignify that with a response.” 

Anna glances between the two one last time from her position across the station and with a sigh she stands. “I’m going to take my lunch break. If something too hairy comes in, page me. Otherwise, I trust you two to handle it.” As she walks away, she adds under her breath, “But I’m not sure I necessarily trust you two not to kill each other.”

The dark headed doctor sighs again as she makes her way into the attendings lounge and over toward the coffee machine. Allura Vysoren stands there already stirring her own cup of coffee. “Hey,” Allura greets her glancing up.

“Hi.” She returns, hoping she doesn’t sound ridiculously short. 

Allura moves a bit so Anna has a direct line to the coffee machine, “You sound like you need this more than I do,” she jokes with a hint of a smile. “Been busy?”

Anna shrugs, as she begins the mundane, mechanical process of making herself coffee. “Not particularly. It’s been an average day.” 

“So, it has been the residents then?” Allura raises an eyebrow in her direction. 

She looks over, glancing full on at the pediatrician for the first time since she’s entered the room. The blonde has a knowing look on her face. “They’re that loud.”

“Not necessarily, I just know that Raishan is not a fan of Percy and vice versa. I pay attention to what I hear around. Besides, they don’t have to be verbally loud when they radiate their discomfort from ten feet away,” she snorts. 

“God, they act like children around each other,” Anna rolls her eyes, now pouring her coffee and turning back toward Allura. “And I expected more of Raishan. She’s a senior resident, and highly capable in the OR. I expected more of her as a person, but she’s showing her ass right now. So is Percival. I’ve never had them on the same shift and God forbid it happens again.” 

“Does it get in the way of productivity on cases?”

“It doesn’t seem to, but that’s about the only saving grace of the situation, but any downtime is a living hell for their poor attending,” Anna remarks, her voice dry, a note of sarcasm ringing through the air.

“I bet,” Allura says, her own response carrying a hint of mirth. 

The two women lapse into silence for a moment as Anna sips the coffee in her hand before she speaks up again, “How was yours and Kima’s vacation? You both recently got back, yeah?” Anna’s not one for small talk, but she likes Allura and she’s trying to kill time before she makes her way back to the two residents on her service. 

“We did. It was a nice break from work, but I think Kima missed her classes,” the blonde doctor laughs to herself. Anna has to think to herself for a moment, wracking her brain for what exactly Allura’s wife does, then she remembers: self defence training. 

“Any workaholic misses their work,” Anna quips as she pushes herself off the edge of the counter and toward the refrigerator to get the lunch she’d brought herself. She might as well eat, even if it’s earlier than she’d like. 

“I suppose so, and you’d know all about that wouldn’t you Anna?” 

Ripley snorts as she takes a seat in one of the chairs with the chicken salad she’s brought, “I guess so.” Ripley’s much needed break comes to an end when her pager goes off. “Shit,” she mumbles around a mouthful of chicken salad. 

Anna makes her way hurriedly back toward the emergency room to the trauma room where she’s been called. “What have we got? De Rolo?” she asks looking for Percy to report as she takes a brief survey of the unconscious patient on the table. 

Raishan’s eyes briefly shoot up as Anna asks Percy for a report and not her as she’s working. “Male. Age 30. Drug overdose in his own house and he fell down his stairs when he was falling unconscious, says his son.”

“Assessment so far?” Anna asks as she nurses in the room begin feeding her the vitals and she begins to form a possible course of treatment for this man. 

“Blunt head trauma with dilated pupils. Neuro’s on their way, and there’s suspected retroperitoneal bleeding from how he fell as well as several rib fractures,” Raishan hisses before Percy can speak up, shooting Percy the briefest of glances.

Even in a moment of crisis, Anna has to internally roll her eyes at the utter pettiness of the two residents. At least they didn’t impede the case with it, she thinks to herself as her thoughts and hands take over. Admittedly though, Anna keeps a wary eye on the two residents all throughout the case to make sure they don’t hinder any progress. It also doesn’t escape her notice the way Raishan sneers whenever she corrects or guides Percy on something, albeit, both people in front of her are highly skilled. She can trust them both to do their jobs, but she’s also a careful teacher and she doesn’t like mistakes on her record. She learned very early on in training residents to excel at her own job as well as keep half an eye on the residents. 

Apparently even thinking about wanting to keep a decent record jinxes her team. The man codes and they can’t get him back even with the influx of information they’ve been receiving. “Time of death. 14:07.” 

Percy mutters something under his breath that Anna doesn’t quite decipher, but apparently Raishan does. Out of the corner of her eyes, she watches as the senior resident sneers and says something back under her breath, to which Percy glares. 

“Both you. Go find his son and tell him that his father is dead,” Anna snaps before she can edge the harshness out of her tone. Both residents look up at her like they’ve been caught in a crime, and wordlessly begin to slip out. As each pass by, Anna glares. She’s sure they were bickering about the case, seconds after someone had died. While they can’t exactly exactly dwell on it, the two could afford this man a bit more respect than what they seem to be giving him. 

One of the nurses speaks up, “Dr. Ripley, you or your residents will have to go into family records and call a social worker in until an adult in the family can be with the son.” 

“Yes, I know,” Anna nods. “I’ll see to it that all our ducks are in a row.” With a short sigh she discards her gloves and makes her way out of the trauma room and over toward the front desk to get admission records, then she heads to go find Percy and Raishan. It doesn’t take her long. 

She hates conversations like these, especially with teenagers. They’re always aware of the situation, but at least Percy and Raishan have pulled it together. They manage to get boy, Cyrus, to tell them that he has an aunt living about four hours away. Anna gets her contact information and as a punishment for their bickering has Percy and Raishan hang out with Cyrus until a social worker can get to the ER to take over. 

On her way back toward the front desk to get into contact with the aunt, she catches a flash of familiar dark hair walking in the doors. Delilah Briarwood. It’s been weeks and she still remembers her name clearly, and she’s still attractive. Delilah has her kid with her. What was her name? Lily. That was it. They must be here to get those stitches removed. Instinctively, she glances down at the telephone on the desk, avoiding eye contact with Delilah. The woman doesn’t say a word or seem to notice her.

Delilah makes her way through the ER lobby, only half way noticing the petite frame of Anna Ripley hunkered over, desperately avoiding her. She checks in with one of the receptionists, explaining they have an appointment with Dr. Vysoren to have Lily’s stitches removed. They’re told to wait, as Delilah expects. 

“How long are we going to have to wait?” Lily asks as they walk to sit down in the waiting room area.

“I’m not sure, hopefully not a long time,” Delilah offers with a smile and a short shrug.

“Me too. I want to get these things out soon, they’re getting itchy,” the little girl says, her nose wrinkling up as she thinks of the stitches in her forehead. “Plus, they’re kind of ugly.” 

Delilah chuckles, “I know, and they shouldn’t leave a mark. They were extra careful when they stitched you up.”

“Oh? I always thought they were scarred.. I’ve seen the scar on your stomach from where you had me and they stitched you up.” 

“Not always, plastic surgeons didn’t stitch my stomach up, but a plastic surgeon did stitch your face up after Dr. Vysoren checked you out,” Delilah explains. 

Lily goes silent for a second, considering all of that information. “That’s cool. When I grow up, could I become a plastic surgeon?” She looks up at Delilah.

With a smile her mother answers, “If that’s what you want.”

It's at that exact time Percy, Raishan, and Cyrus are crossing the ER to get to the vending machine and Cyrus is talking about something related to school. Percy really is listening, but the minute he catches sight of Delilah Briarwood’s face again his mind goes blank. “Holy shit,” he mumbles under his breath.


	5. Shattered Webs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Certain relationships are explained. Percy has a bit of a crisis about the Briarwoods (as a treat). Delilah faces some of the harsher realities of the divorces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for no updates for so long. Quarantine tanked my mental health, but it just be like that lmao.

“I never thought I’d see that woman again,” Percy huffs, flopping down beside Keyleth and Vex on the couch. It’s Thursday evening and all of Percy’s friends have gathered in his and Keyleth’s and now by extension Vex’s apartment for their weekly Chinese takeout. The topic of discussion has evolved from Keyleth and Vex trying to adopt a dog to now Percy’s apparent work ‘drama.’

“I mean, did she even speak to you?” Vex raises an eyebrow.

“No but-” 

“Then what’s the big deal?” Grog asks from the armchair. “I know you don’t like her or whatever, but she didn’t talk to you,” he shrugs glancing up from his takeout container. 

“The big deal is that she wasn’t just my old professor that made my life hell with her difficult classes, she’s also technically an old family friend,” Percy starts once more pinching the bridge of his nose. 

Keyleth and Vex glance at each other. “This is the first time this has come up. I take it things went sour somewhere with the Briarwoods and the DeRolos?” Keyleth asks. Percy glances at her with a short sigh, his mouth set in a neutral line as if he were debating answering the question. 

“Yes. I was thirteen, Cassandra was six. The Briarwoods were a young couple that my parents met at an academic function, something my father had attended. He and Delilah are in similar fields. She was actually in the process of getting her first PhD I think. My parents liked the youthful energy they had and my older siblings liked having an almost friend in Delilah or Sylas, though I never cared for him.” Percy pauses, scowling briefly.

“But eventually, something happened, and I don’t know exact details but, Sylas tried to come onto my mother. They all got into a fight about it, Delilah didn’t believe Sylas had done it. He insisted he hadn’t. They never came over again. We didn’t really talk about them afterward. They were always a bit of a sore subject.” 

The living room is silent for a moment. Vex speaks up, “I understand that.” She regards Percy attempting to dissect his demeanour.. He’s still lazing back on the couch, but his eyes are definitely more alert. 

“Did she mention it at all when you were in school?” Scanlan asks from his place in the apartment. “Like, did she make it worse?” 

Percy shifts, a grimace passing over his features, “She didn’t mention personal things, no. She preferred to keep things very professional. She just had this reputation as a professor and I never felt comfortable going during her office hours. I feel like she always knew and remembered, even if I was just a teenager.” 

“I mean, do you think she really cares about that now?” Pike asks raising a brow, finally speaking up in this conversation. 

“I mean, I have no direct confirmation or denial, obviously, but they seemed to care about things like that, and it was a really big fight. Like I wasn’t there wasn’t there for the fight, but their names just stopped getting brought up cold turkey. Plus, if she sided with Sylas, then I’m not sure how she feels about my family…”   
Percy’s brow furrows as he trails off. “Well that’s not completely true.” 

“What do you mean, babe?” Vax pipes up from the couch arm.

“Cassandra is in her class, works in her lab. Gets along with her really well too. I don’t get it.” Percy shakes his head glancing over at his boyfriend. 

“Then maybe she’s over it, darling?” Vex suggests. “You’re completely valid in feeling the way you do, it sounds like uncomfortable family history, but you just saw her at work, it’s not like she came up to you and made your life hell,” the dark haired woman points out gently. 

“I suppose you’re right… that just surmounted on an already bad day of working with Raishan and just made me think about this.” Percy sighs again now looking at the other twin. 

“You had another day of work with Raishan?” Keyleth asks, attempting to change the subject. “She seems like a bitch. She was in on an operation my dad had about a year ago and she was rude when she was giving us updates.” 

Percy chuckles, “She is. I hate working with her.” 

“She’s the worst,” Pike chimes in. “We’ve only spoken a few times and she’s the definition of mean.”

“Don’t they teach you to be nice in med school?” Grog asks.

“Yep, you’re supposed to learn bedside manner, but I’m not sure she did,” Pike laughs. 

Vax raises an eyebrow, “That bad?” 

“That bad,” Percy confirms. 

\-----

Delilah can’t seem to catch a break lately, or at least everything seems to be hitting all at once and she’s not a fan. She’d thought the divorce would be clean and simple, or at least as clean and simple as a divorce case could be with a custody case involved. But as usual, things with Sylas are never simple. He wants to split custody 50/50, not the original agreement, and Delilah is at the end of her rope with him.

The professor sits at her kitchen table, a bottle of whiskey open in front of her, on the phone with her soon to be ex. “Sylas! We’ve been over this multiple times, we go back to the original plan. You’d still fucking see her. Both of us were satisfied and our lawyers were working with us. Things were going great.”

“Well, I’m sorry I want to see my daughter. She’s important to me.”

“Mhm, I bet.” Delilah can’t hide the cynicism from her voice no matter how hard she tries. 

“What? Do you have a comment?” 

“Yes, actually, I do. If she were important to you then we wouldn’t be in this situation to begin with. She’s six. Her parents shouldn’t be getting a divorce!” Delilah snaps. Shit. Lily is upstairs trying to sleep, she can’t be loud. She takes a long swig of whiskey from the glass on the table. 

“Then why didn’t you try to fix our relationship?” Sylas’ tone now carries a tone of anger and sarcasm. 

Delilah laughs. She can’t help it. “Oh? Why didn’t I? Why didn’t I try to fix it? Sylas, I tried to get us into couples therapy, to talk it out, to do anything, but all you did was make excuses and empty apologies for cheating on me!” Under her breath she adds, “I wouldn’t be surprised if you’d done it before.” 

That’s something she’s contemplated before, quite a bit. Had he? Of course there was the DeRolo incident thirteen years ago. It seems distant, but she remembers it. Maybe, just maybe Sylas really had tried to cheat then too.

Now, she wouldn’t be surprised, but somewhere deep down it burns bitterly. She loved Sylas, really. Afterall, they’d had a child together and raised her for six years, almost seven years. They’d been married for fifteen. She misses the relationship they had, or at least the idea of it. Now, being on the other side of it, she sees just how nasty he can be. 

"My apologies were genuine! You wouldn't accept them!" He snaps back. "Couples therapy is bullshit, just trying to take our money, I apologised. All you had to do was accept it!" 

He hadn't seem to have heard the second comment. "Genuine my ass. And therapy could have helped but we're past that." Her voice is cold now. "Do you have anything else you need to say to me? I have work tomorrow."

"No. I don't. Goodnight Delilah." His tone matches hers: colder than ice. She doesn't respond. She simply presses the button to hang up. A sickening feeling sits in the bottom of her stomach and she almost wants to cry. 

They fought when they were married, but never as much as they are now. She can’t imagine the normalcy or really an extended exchange with him that isn’t filled with tension. Delilah glances over at the clock. Midnight. She has work in the morning. With a glance toward the whiskey left in her glass, she contemplates finishing it. It’s her third glass. Does she need it? Probably not? She finishes it off anyway. It’s been a long night.

With a sigh, she stands and begins to clean up the kitchen for good to retire for the evening. Her eyes almost droop as she moves through the motions and through her house. By the time she takes a shower and settles down into night clothes, it’s one. She doesn’t end up falling asleep until around three. 

Subsequently, the next day she’s in an extremely volatile mood. The professor manages to hold it back for Lily in the morning, because dealing with her in the mornings can sometimes be enough without adding Delilah’s mood onto everything. But at the university all bets are off. Nott pushes her luck in O-Chem, and Delilah thinks perhaps she was a bit harsh, but she knows Nott won’t push her buttons again anytime soon. Her other two classes pass by in a flash, and it hits her. Today is a day she’s supposed to have office hours. 

Delilah prays no student will show up. She doesn’t dissuade students from asking her questions by any means, but truthfully, today, she’s not sure she has the patience. Unfortunately, there’s a knock on the office door and it creaks open. Delilah sucks in a breath. 

The face of Cassandra DeRolo peeks in. Brilliant, truly. “Cassandra, please, come in.”

Her face brightens up a bit, “Hey, Doc B.” The girl steps in pushing the door shut behind her. She looks a bit frazzled, her dark hair with its white streaks is in a messy low bun that seems to be falling out.

“How are you, Cassandra?” Delilah genuinely asks this. She cares about her, but in that moment that odd question of her family floats into the back of her mind. Does Cassandra remember a lot of what happened? She was a little girl, but Delilah is too afraid to ask. She was certainly too afraid to ask Percival when he was in her classes several years ago. Though he definitely has an opinion, he was thirteen, and always seemed to rather avoid her. 

“I’m well, tired. Exams are coming up, so, I’m studying a lot,” Cassandra shrugs, shifting in her seat. 

Delilah nods observing Cassandra, there are bags under her eyes, and her posture slumps. She’s seen her tired and stressed, but she seems more resigned. “Well, if you need anything you think I can help with, I’m here.” She means academics and anything else, and can only hope Cassandra knows. The De Rolo is her favourite student, and a very bright person. She doesn’t want to see her burn out. “Don’t let the exam stress overtake you.” She adds on. 

Cassandra bobs her head, “Thank you, and I’ll try not to. I’m just busy, and not getting a lot of sleep,” she lets out a dry chuckle. 

“I understand,” the professor nods sympathetically. 

By the time Cassandra leaves her office, Delilah’s earlier mood has dissipated into a very tired mood. Emotionally and physically. She no longer feels the urge to snap at anyone who might cross her path in an incorrect manner. Instead, she just wants to sleep. 

The woman begins to gather her things to leave, but something catches her eye. A small picture of Sylas and she sitting atop a bookshelf. She thought she took down those pictures. This one is one of them on vacation somewhere, Marquet, she remembers. Dalen’s Closet specifically, a stupidly extravagant resort. The picture doesn’t spark any anger in that moment, her heart only drops as a pang of melancholy shoots through its fibres. It’s not that she misses Sylas, because he’s shown what must have been his true colours, but she misses that happiness with someone. What happened to that?


End file.
